Cuddles, Joints, and Bottles
by AlienCarnivore
Summary: Richie is traumatized after defeating It and he gets worse over time. Eddie does his best to help him, but will it be enough?
1. Nightmares

**A/N: Originally posted on Archive of Our Own, this is my first Reddie story. I got positive feedback from it on AO3, so I've decided to post it on here. I hope people enjoy this. Feedback is always awesome!**

* * *

The Losers Club had defeated It and life had pretty much gone back to normal. The Losers, minus Beverly who moved away from Derry after defeating It in the sewers, went back to their mostly mundane lives. There were still the issues with some of their parents, such as Eddie's mom's continuous smothering and over-protectiveness as well as Richie's parents' neglect, but overall things had calmed down and life had gone on.

Some of them did have issues they needed to work on, though. Eddie wouldn't shut up about how many potential infections he _must_ have gotten from being puked on all over, it had taken months for Mike to fully overcome the trauma of almost being savagely murdered several times, and Stan almost a year to get over almost having his face eaten on that defining day in the sewers. Bill and Ben seemed to have been the least affected, taking it upon themselves to play therapist for any of the Losers when they needed someone to talk to, especially Stan. Even after spending emotional nights with Stan where his facade would shatter and he would just cry for what felt like hours with his friends hugging him, they still weren't convinced he was over the trauma. They wondered if he ever would be. For Eddie, they just made sure he wasn't actually traumatized and let him continue his never-ending health lectures.

Richie was a different story. He hadn't seemed too affected by the events concerning the sewers or It in general, so none of them, not even Eddie, worried too much. His vulgar mouth continued its daily routine of getting him into trouble at school, with other kids, or with his parents, so everybody was convinced he was fine.

Overtime, though, his friends could tell something was bothering Richie. His jokes became a little less frequent, his smiles seemed forced at times, and he started to hang out with the group less and less. He would come to school tired some days and cancel plans to go home and nap. It wasn't until about almost ten months after being in the sewers that he confessed to nightmares and night terrors that started to plague him.

Bill had invited his friends over for a sleepover one night and, after some pleading from Eddie to Richie, the six of them were in Bill's living room watching "Killer Clowns from Outer Space." Bill, Stan, and Mike were sharing a couch while Ben and Richie were in comfy chairs, with Eddie sitting on the floor in between Richie's legs.

Richie tried to get through the movie, he really did. He knew it wasn't real, but the clowns were starting to affect him. He never told his friends, but every clown he saw reminded him of It. Not even 20 minutes into the movie, Richie felt short on breath and anxious. He did his best not to alarm his friends, but his body was screaming at him to do something, anything to relieve the severe anxiety attack he was having. Feeling desperate, he leaned forward and put his hands on Eddie's shoulders. Eddie turned his head and looked up at him. He could feel Richie trembling.

"What is it?" Eddie whispered, concerned.

Richie gulped and timidly asked, "Can I sit with you? Please?"

Confusion and worry swept through Eddie. He could tell something was bothering his friend, so he said nothing as he scooched over a little as Richie sat down next to him, their shoulders and arms touching. The others glanced at them curiously and Eddie shrugged at them slightly. He tried to make eye contact with Richie, who was transfixed with the screen, but it didn't work. He seemed to be more relaxed sitting next to Eddie, at least.

Later into the movie, however, Richie couldn't help himself from letting out a gasp, clutching onto Eddie's arm tighter than he needed to and burying his head into his shoulder. Eddie jumped at the sudden increase in contact and the pressure from Richie's hand. He was shaking again.

Deciding it was now or never, Eddie decided to speak up. "Bill, can you pause the movie for a minute and can someone turn on the lights, please?"

Bill did as he was asked while Ben got up and flicked on the lights before turning and looking at Richie still clutching onto Eddie, eyes shut tight and biting his bottom lip.

"Are you okay, Richie?" Eddie asked unnecessarily, since it was pretty clear to them all that Richie was not okay.

Richie shook his head before slowly lifting off of Eddie's shoulder, lessening his grip on Eddie's arm but not letting go. Ben walked over and sat on the floor next to Richie, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Deep breaths," Ben said soothingly, rubbing Richie's shoulder a little.

After Richie got his breathing under control, Eddie said, "You've been acting weird as shit lately. What's going on? You know you can tell us."

Richie looked around at all of them and saw their concerned faces before speaking. "I-it was the fucking clowns."

A moment of silence passed before Bill spoke up. "I th-thought you weren't af-afraid of clowns anymore."

"I'm not," Richie insisted. "They just…fuck, are you really going to make me say-" He cut himself off before the last word of his question.

Mike decided to get involved. "They remind you of It? That's what's going on?"

"Every fucking clown does," Richie said miserably, getting conspicuously more emotional as his voice started to crack. "I've been having nightmares. Ever since that day. Not every night, but...enough."

Ben and Eddie helped Richie stand up and sit in the chair he was in earlier. They all gathered around him, with Eddie grabbing Richie's hand with his own. Ben and Bill put their hands on one of Richie's shoulders.

"Why didn't you say anything earlier?" Ben asked.

"Because I can handle it," Richie said, sniffling a little. "I know I can."

"You look like you're about to cry," Eddie pointed out, giving Richie's hand a squeeze.

Richie took off his glasses and wiped his eyes. "I just got too freaked out over the clowns. That's it. I can handle the nightmares. They're really not that bad," he lied.

"They're enough to make you lose sleep," Stan said matter-of-factly, sitting on the arm of the couch next to the chair.

"Look, I just had a…moment. Okay? I'm fine. Let's just watch some other movie. I think I saw a porno of Eddie's mom in Bill's collection." Richie's cringeworthy joke inserted an unwelcome picture in their minds, making Stan gag and Eddie lightly punch Richie in the arm.

"If you s-say so, Richie. You know w-we're h-here for you," Bill concluded with.

Richie nodded. "I'll be okay for the rest of the night. I promise. Just, please change the movie."

Bill nodded and went to change the movie and the others except Eddie went back to their previous positions in Bill's living room. Richie looked up at Eddie, who still had his hand in his. Eddie smiled softly at him and gave his hand another squeeze before sitting on Richie's lap and wrapping an arm around his neck. Richie's head was resting against the crook of Eddie's neck.

The fact that his best friend was sitting on his lap and making sure he was okay made Richie smile. He didn't think about clowns or It for the rest of the night.

* * *

Once the new school year started, the others had started to notice Richie looking tired and eventually exhausted everyday they saw him at school. Eddie decided to approach Richie about it one day after school was over.

Richie was standing in front of his locker completely motionless after not speaking for almost the entire day and that's when Eddie walked up to him.

"Hey," Eddie began, removing his backpack and leaning on the lockers next to his friend.

There was no response from Richie and that's when Eddie realized his head was resting against the inside of his locker and his eyes were closed, glasses askew.

Concern flooded Eddie and he tapped Richie on the shoulder, resulting in Richie jerking his head upright, banging the top of it against the inside of his locker, glasses almost falling off his face. He swore at himself and grabbed his head, rubbing it slightly before turning to the shorter boy.

"Fuck, Eds, don't sneak up on me like that!" he exclaimed, shutting his locker.

"First of all, don't call me that. And what are you talking about? Were you asleep just now?" Eddie inquired. "Were you asleep while standing up?"

Richie stopped rubbing his head and fixed his glasses. "No, not fully. I just dozed off, I guess. I haven't been sleeping well," he confessed.

"Yeah, I know, you've mentioned that. You've also mentioned that you've been having nightmares," Eddie informed him. "Do you remember telling us that?"

Richie rubbed his eyes, letting out the faintest of groans. "Y-yeah…sorry. I'm just tired."

Eddie pursed his lips, examining Richie's face and the noticeable bags under his eyes. "Do you wanna talk about it?"

"Not here," Richie said brusquely, adjusting his backpack straps before handing Eddie his backpack.

"Okay," Eddie conceded. "Do you wanna go to the quarry or something and talk about it? Bill and Stan will be there. They're worried about you. And so am I."

"Don't be. And…I don't know. I might just go home and nap," Richie muttered, looking around to make sure nobody was eavesdropping.

Eddie tried again. "You sure?"

Richie made eye contact with Eddie. "There's nothing to talk about. You already know what the problem is."

Eddie nodded slowly. The two boys looked at each other knowingly for a couple seconds before starting their way out of school. Once they were at the bike rack, Eddie spoke up, giving one last attempt. "So, do you wanna hang out today or not? We don't have to talk about your nightmares if you don't want to."

Richie blinked a couple of times in an attempt to make his eyes less irritated and put his hands on his handlebars. "Maybe some other time. I think I should just go home and try to get some sleep."

Eddie tried to hide his disappointment. After a couple seconds of silence, he sighed and said, "Okay. Whatever you want."

"It is what I want," Richie shot at him, backing up his bike before climbing on. He was about to ride away before he took a look at the shocked Eddie. "Shit, sorry Eds. I just…I need to go. I'm okay, stop worrying about me already."

As he rode off without him, Eddie knew that his friend was anything but okay.


	2. I'm Here for You

It wasn't too long after Richie rode away without him that Eddie decided to express his deep concern for his friend to Bill, Ben, and Stan one day after Richie had decided to bail on them yet again to go home and sleep.

The four were at the quarry one September afternoon and had just finished playing in the water when Eddie cleared his throat and asked, "Are you guys worried about Richie?"

Stan shrugged and sat down on his usual rock, stretching out his muscles. "I know it's been a lot quieter lately."

The look Eddie gave him made Stan realize how serious Eddie was being. He stopped his stretching and sat up a little straighter. "Sorry, bad joke. I am worried about him. He doesn't seem to be getting enough sleep lately. Every day I see him he looks exhausted."

"Yeah, and he d-doesn't hang out with us as m-m-much," Bill added. "Like t-today."

Eddie nodded in agreement and sat down on a rock with his friends. "I think they're getting worse. His nightmares, I mean. He seems…"

"Traumatized," Ben finished for him. "Completely traumatized by them. By It. It's been over a year now. I'm worried, too."

"That's what I'm saying. Even Stanley is mostly over what happened by now," Eddie said, relieved of the amount of concern his friends had for Richie.

"Y-yeah," Stan said blankly, staring off into space.

Bill put a hand on Stan's shoulder and Eddie continued. "Do you guys think we should take turns having Richie over our houses so he can sleep near one of us? Maybe that would help him."

"It c-c-couldn't hurt," Bill agreed, "But s-school has been back for w-w-weeks now. My parents w-won't allow a-a-anybody over during the week."

"Mine either," Stan said, trying his best to stay engaged in the conversation. Bill rubbing his shoulder with his thumb was helping.

"I know," Eddie sighed. "We can do sleepovers on weekends, I guess. I might just have to risk sneaking him into my room during school nights."

Bill smiled when Eddie was finished. "Y-you've gotten a lot braver s-since that day."

They all knew what "that day" was, of course. Eddie did his best to hide the redness forming on his cheeks. "I'm not afraid of what my mom might do if she discovers him in my room. It's worth it for Richie."

The others nodded their agreement.

After sitting in content silence for a while, Bill and the others started to put their pants and shirts back on. Bill glanced over at Eddie. He was sitting in deep thought, not even noticing what was going on around him.

"H-hey, Eds," Bill said, buttoning up his jeans.

Eddie was pulled back from whatever train of thought he was having and looked up.

"Sorry we c-couldn't be more helpful. We're all h-here for R-R-Richie."

Eddie bit his bottom lip and stood up, pulling on his shorts. "I know that. I'm just worried about him."

"Try not to dwell on it," Ben said, tying his shoes. "Your idea might help him sleep better."

Eddie stopped and pondered Ben's comment. "Assuming he agrees to it. You know how he's been lately."

"If he doesn't agree at first, just convince him. If anybody can convince the Trashmouth, it's you," Stan asserted. "It'll be fine."

"I hope you're right," Eddie said gloomily. "I'll talk to him about it tomorrow."

* * *

Eddie brought up his idea to Richie as the two were riding their bikes home from school the next day.

"Fucking seriously? You want me to sneak into your room so you can watch me sleep? At least buy me a drink first, Eddie Spaghetti," Richie joked, riding his bike in circles around Eddie as they biked home from school together.

Richie's lame joke eased the anxiety Eddie was feeling with confronting his friend about his plan. He had been so unapproachable when it came to discussing or dealing with his nightmares. Thankfully, this seemed to be one of his better afternoons and he was acting like the Richie that Eddie loved.

"You know I hate being called that," Eddie whined. "And yes, I am 'fucking serious,' dipshit. We'll just have to be quiet so my mom doesn't find out. That's just a bunch of crap I don't want to deal with."

"So why do it?" Richie asked, going back to riding side-by-side with Eddie. "It doesn't seem worth it, honestly."

A brief flash of anger surged through Eddie at his friend's stubbornness. "If it helps you sleep better, even just a little, it'll be worth it. Don't be a dick about it. You sleep much better while at sleepovers, which is amazing to me considering how loud Ben snores. This is sort of the same thing. I think you should try it. The others agree with me."

"Why didn't you bring it up when they were still riding with us, then?"

"Because they know how close we are and thought it would be better if I talked to you alone about it. They aren't able to have you over during the week anyways," Eddie explained. "I'm not either, but I don't care. You need sleep and I think this might help."

"Maybe," Richie muttered. "I don't know…"

Eddie was ready with a response. "Don't make me beg. You need to want to do this for it to really work. Stanley said so."

"Ah, yes, psychology lessons from Stan the Man. 'Take your seats, boys and girls, class is in session!'" Richie exclaimed in his British accent that he knew Eddie hated.

"Will you shut the fuck up and take this seriously?" Eddie snapped. "I'm trying to help you since it's obvious you need someone to."

"Is my Eddie Spaghetti trying to say something?"

"I'm saying you come to school tired as shit and don't talk to any of us much until lunch at least. You sit in class and don't even get detentions anymore because your mouth that never shuts up is closed the entire period. You bail on us more often than not and you're clearly not happy," Eddie finished, voice cracking towards the end. He could feel himself getting emotional and didn't bother trying to hide it.

Richie didn't know what to say at first. He knew Eddie was right in everything he said and it felt like his heart shattered when he saw that Eddie was holding back tears. They said nothing until they arrived at Richie's house. Richie dismounted his bike and turned to the shorter boy.

"Have I mentioned how cute you are when you're worried?" Richie teased, trying to lighten the mood. He pinched one of Eddie's cheeks, causing the boy to blush and begin to form a smile.

"Don't pinch me," Eddie demanded, smiling and looking down at his feet. "Does that mean you'll do it?"

"Yes, Spaghetti Eddie, I will do it. It's worth a shot, right? Maybe it will help…" Richie trailed off, staring into space. He shook his head. "I'm not talking about the nightmares, though, so don't bother asking."

"Fine," Eddie conceded. "I'll take what I can get. So, uh, just climb up to my window around 10:00. Please actually show up."

"Don't you worry, Eds, I wouldn't miss a night with you for the world," Richie promised, ruffling Eddie's hair.

* * *

When Richie didn't show up by 10:00, Eddie began to once again worry. He wondered if his hair would start to fall out as a result of the amount of worrying he had been doing over Richie. After pacing his room in a t-shirt and pajama pants looking impatiently at his wristwatch for what felt like hours, he was almost ecstatic when he heard somebody insistently tapping on his window.

Eddie hurried over before Richie woke up his mom and opened his window and helped Richie inside. Richie instantly sank to Eddie's floor, head in his hands, glasses off to the side. Overwhelming concern flooded through Eddie and he felt a sort of tugging in his chest at the sight of Richie in obvious distress.

He turned on his nightside lamp before kneeling down and putting a hand on one of Richie's shoulders. In his most caring voice, he asked, "What happened?"

Any feeling of annoyance or anger quickly dissipated when Richie lifted his head and Eddie saw that Richie had been crying. Eddie's heart melted and he quickly embraced the boy, holding the back of his head against his shoulder while rubbing his back. Richie didn't hug him back; he just remained limp in Eddie's arms not saying anything.

"Richie?" Eddie whispered, voice beginning to fail him. "Say something, please."

Richie gently removed himself from Eddie's embrace and the two boys looked in each other's eyes for a little longer before Eddie decided to move them to his bed. He didn't have anything that fit Richie besides a large t-shirt he sometimes slept in, so Eddie let his friend borrow that. After Richie was dressed for bed, Eddie turned off the light, climbed into bed, and motioned towards the half he wasn't using. Richie accepted the invitation and laid down next to his friend, staring at the ceiling.

After a minute or so of silence, Eddie couldn't stand it anymore. "Richie, you're starting to scare me. Say something. Make a shitty joke about my mom, call me one of your stupid nicknames. Just…please say something already."

More painful silence passed before Richie finally spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don't want to talk about it."

Eddie let out a whine. "Dammit, Richie…" He rubbed his eyes and propped himself up on an elbow facing towards the other boy.

Richie licked his lips and took a deep breath. "I…fell asleep after you left my house. I didn't fucking mean to, but I've just been so tired lately. My energy just drained after you left. I don't know how to explain it."

Eddie listened patiently for Richie to continue, but it seemed he was done talking for now. "Another nightmare?"

"Y-yeah. It was…awful," he stated bluntly. "I couldn't fucking move this time. It was like I was awake for it, but I couldn't move, Eddie."

The use of his actual name made Eddie move closer to Richie so that their arms were touching. He grabbed one of Richie's hands.

"Hey. Listen to me. The nightmare wasn't real. None of them are. You're safe. It is gone. We defeated It. All of us. You'll be okay. I promise," he finished lamely. He wished he was better with words.

Richie let out a sob and buried his head into Eddie's chest for comfort. Eddie wrapped an arm around Richie's neck and cradled his head gently. He let Richie cry, not caring about the fact that Richie's snot was no doubt making his shirt filthy. When the crying didn't seem to be stopping, Eddie reached over to his nightstand and produced a box of tissues to Richie, handing him a couple.

"Thanks," Richie said miserably. He sniffed and blew his nose before tossing the tissue on the floor. Eddie didn't care, he would pick it up in the morning.

"No problem. I'm here for you, Richie," Eddie assured him as Richie finished wiping his eyes with another tissue before tossing it on the floor. "You can fall asleep, it's okay. I'll be right here the whole time."

Richie nodded appreciatively. He turned so he was facing towards Eddie and adjusted himself so that his head resting in the crook of Eddie's neck, draping an arm over the boy as a sign of affection.

Eddie suddenly felt very happy, despite the circumstances. The two boys continued to cuddle and Richie soon drifted off to sleep, his breathing evening out and beginning to snore softly. As tired as he was, Eddie wasn't about to sleep until he was sure Richie wasn't displaying visible signs of having a nightmare. After just listening to Richie's peaceful breathing for a while, Eddie was convinced his friend wasn't having any difficulties sleeping. He closed his eyes and smiled contently. Richie would be okay for the night and that's all that mattered to him right now. With a happy sigh, Eddie cuddled into Richie more and soon fell asleep.


	3. A Sad Sunset

Their sleeping arrangement continued for over a month. Eddie would always leave a ruler propped under his window so Richie wouldn't have to wait for him to open it. It became a sort of routine: wake up either side-by-side or snuggled up close to one another depending on Richie's experiences throughout the day or night, have Richie slip out Eddie's window and go home and into his room through _his_ window, go to school, spend time with whatever other Losers were available after school (Richie had finally stopped bailing on his friends), and eventually Richie would be back in Eddie's room by 10:00 every night and the two would whisper for a bit, then go to bed. Rinse and repeat.

It was a simple procedure, but it was theirs. Nobody could take that away from them as long as they were careful, and they were. All it took to mess it all up was one bad night for Richie.

Eddie was just finishing flossing his teeth in the upstairs bathroom while his mom was downstairs watching some boring program on the television. A loud _thump_ coming from Eddie's room caused the boy to drop the piece of floss he was using and hurry to his room before his mom came upstairs to check on him.

Richie was rubbing his head, sitting on Eddie's bed with a blank expression on his face when Eddie arrived, quickly closing the door to his room.

"What the fuck, Richie? You can't be making noise like that! My mom might-" Eddie began.

"Eddie-bear! Are you okay?" he could hear his mom call out.

"Shit," Eddie whispered. He cleared his throat before answering, his back to his bedroom door. "Yes, mom! I just tripped! Everything is fine!"

"Are you sure?" His mom's voice was suddenly much closer, to the point where Eddie could tell she had walked up the stairs and was heading towards his room. "You're not bleeding, are you? Do you need a band-aid?"

"Fuck," Richie said under his breath, taking off his glasses and putting his head in his hands.

Eddie put a finger to his lips, eyes wide.

"Eddie? Are you okay?" She was right outside his room. "Open this door, please."

Richie tiptoed to Eddie's closet, as they agreed he would do if ever the situation arose where Mrs. Kaspbrak would enter Eddie's room. After shutting himself inside, Eddie finally opened the door.

"Hi, mom," Eddie said, trying to keep his cool.

"Sweetie," his mom said with worry. "Why did it take you so long to open the door? You're not trying to hide anything from me, are you? Did you hit your head?"

She took his face in her hands and inspected it.

Eddie gently removed himself from her grasp. "Mom, I told you, I just tripped. On some…comic books. I know you're always telling me to keep my room clean, but I must have forgotten to put them away. It's okay, though. They're back in my drawer." He gulped.

After letting herself into his room and taking a quick inspection, Mrs. Kaspbrak nodded to herself and turned towards her son. "You have to be more careful, sweetie. You could seriously hurt yourself."

Eddie breathed through his nose heavily. "Mom, I said I'm fine. I stopped my fall with my hands," he said, waving them in front his mother.

"Why are your hands shaking?" Mrs. Kaspbrak queried, taking his hands in her own.

"I uh…I just had a rough day is all. I'm fine, though. Promise." Eddie hoped he was as convincing as he thought he sounded.

His mother wasn't done yet, though. "If kids at school are picking on you, you know to go straight to me, right?"

"Yes, mom, I know," Eddie said, exasperated.

When she still wasn't making a move to leave, Eddie pleaded, "I'm tired, mom, and it's late. I have school tomorrow. Can I go to bed, please?"

Mrs. Kaspbrak smiled at her son before placing a kiss on his forehead. "Of course, sweetie. You know I'm just down the hall if you need me."

Eddie nodded and his mom finally let go of his hands and walked out of the room. She gave him a concerned look before shutting the door behind her, walking back downstairs.

Eddie put his ear to the door and didn't move away until his mom returned back upstairs from shutting off the television and the sound of her closing her own bedroom door was heard.

Letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding, Eddie walked over to his closet and opened the door to find Richie sitting on the floor, knees drawn up to his chest. Eddie immediately regretted snapping at him earlier. Clearly something was bothering him again tonight.

"Hey," Eddie whispered softly. "She's gone, you can come out now."

When Richie made no effort to move, Eddie reached down and took his hands, helping him up and over to his bed. Once Richie was sitting down, Eddie went to his dresser and picked out a pair of Richie's pajama pants and handed it to him. He looked away as Richie changed without saying a word, tossing his jeans and briefs next to his side of the bed.

After they were both settled comfortably, Eddie tried to figure out what to say to Richie to get him to speak. Not speaking had become a habit of Richie's when he was distraught or depressed and it was starting to seriously alarm Eddie.

"Richie, come on, please say something," Eddie pleaded. "I'm sorry I snapped at you before. I just don't want us to get caught."

Richie sighed and finally spoke. "I'm sorry for the noise. I was kind of in a hurry to get into your room."

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah…well, shit, not really, but you already know that. I just had another bad afternoon."

"Oh." That was all Eddie could think to say. He knew not to pry for information until Richie was ready to talk about it. Ben had read that in a book about post-traumatic stress order he found at the library.

Sensing what Eddie was thinking, Richie reassured him. "I didn't fall asleep. I just had a fight with my mom. She apparently hasn't liked my attitude lately. I'm surprised she's even noticed something is wrong with me." He let out a sad chuckle. "And of course she was fucking drunk so she didn't give me a chance to speak for myself. Fucking bitch…"

He turned away from Eddie with a huff of anger and frustration.

Eddie sat up and chose his words carefully. "You can't really talk to her about what's bothering you, though, right? It is about…It, right?"

"Don't. Just…not tonight. I'm fucking done talking." Richie's tone brooked no argument, so Eddie closed his mouth and laid his head back down on the pillows.

Eddie didn't like having Richie go to bed angry. He was afraid how it would affect his friend's nightmares. Something made him keep his mouth shut, though. Giving Richie's backside one last look, Eddie put a hand on Richie's shoulder and patted it, hoping that would be enough to calm him down before he went to sleep.

He could not have been more wrong. Sometime in the middle of the night, Eddie was woken up by a screaming Richie, thrashing around in the sheets, forehead sweaty.

"What the fuck?! What the fuck! No, no, get away from him, you asshole!"

Eddie shot up and immediately started shaking Richie, whispering loudly. "Richie, Richie, wake up. You're being too loud. My mom is going to hear you."

It was too late. Eddie could hear heavy footsteps coming towards his door and that's when he realized his mistake.

"Shit, the door." He had forgotten to lock it after the earlier close call with his mother. Scrambling out of bed, Eddie got tangled in the sheets and ended up dragging them off of the bed in his hurry, tripping as he did, making more noise.

As soon as he got to his feet, his bedroom door flew open and Mrs. Kaspbrak was ready with pepper spray to defend her son with.

"Jesus fuck!" Richie shouted, shooting straight up and throwing a pillow at the hulking silhouette in the doorway.

The pillow hit its target and fell to the floor. The lights were turned on and if looks could kill, Richie would be dead. Eddie jumped on his bed to cover Richie, who was clutching one of Eddie's spare pillows to his chest and rocking back and forth, clearly terrified, but at what Eddie wasn't exactly sure.

His mother entered the room in a fury and that was the end of their sleeping arrangement.

* * *

Eddie was grounded for a month, but he didn't care. He was too furious at his mom to respect any punishment she doled out to him. He had finally found a way to help Richie, at least a little, and she had ruined it all. Even though Richie wasn't completely better, he would usually wake up in a decent mood and Eddie would notice him acting like his old self most days. There had still been days where he would be depressed and distant, but those had become less frequent as long as he was sleeping near Eddie.

So, he would still go out with his friends even though she forbade him from doing so and eventually she gave up on attempting to prevent her son from seeing the other Losers. She would, however, pester him about not seeing Richie, insisting he was a bad influence on him, and how he would never have let someone sleep over during school nights unless he was being manipulated.

In an attempt to get his mom off his back, he would always lie and tell her after every time she interrogated him that Richie and him weren't friends anymore. That seemed to please her, so she stopped asking two weeks after she caught Richie in his room.

Unsurprisingly to Eddie, Richie started to go downhill again, worse than before. He would hardly speak most days and wouldn't sit with his friends at lunch anymore. It had been weeks since they had even seen him in the cafeteria. They didn't even know where he went during lunch period. He didn't crack lame jokes or smile that smile that Eddie had come to miss. It was sad, and Eddie felt his own mood being affected by it.

One day, sitting at their usual lunch table with Bill, Ben, and Stan, Richie absent as became the norm, his friends decided to confront Eddie about his own melancholy mood. He had only taken one bite out of the sandwich his mother packed for him and lunch was half over. He was just staring at his sandwich with a conspicuously sad expression, not partaking in the discussion going on.

A hand on his arm made him flinch and his head snapped up. He calmed down when he saw it was only Ben.

"Eddie?" Ben inquired gently.

"Yeah?" Eddie's voice cracked. He cleared his throat. "What's up?"

"You weren't listening to anything we were talking about, were you?" Ben asked, already knowing the answer.

Eddie shook his head before staring down at his sandwich again.

"Well, we were talking about Richie," Ben continued.

That got Eddie's attention, the small boy's eyes meeting his with apprehension. "What about him?" he asked, swallowing the saliva that had gathered in his mouth.

Hand still on his arm, Ben resumed, "We know you're upset about what's happening to him. How much worse he's gotten."

Eddie let out a sad sigh.

"We think you should meet with him, one-on-one, to try to get him to talk to you," Stan threw in.

Eddie's nostrils flared briefly in annoyance. "Why me? Why is it always me that needs to talk to him? You guys don't even seem to give a shit anymore. You never talk about how we can help him, it's always me that's showed the slightest bit of interest in his well-being."

A little taken aback by the boy's tirade, Ben removed his hand from Eddie's arm and the table sat in uncomfortable silence before Bill decided to speak up. "We're talking about him n-n-now. And w-we do care about R-Rich-Richie."

"Really? Because you don't fucking act like it," Eddie snapped.

Bill opened and closed his mouth, at a loss for words. Ben picked up where he left off, keeping his voice calm and as supportive as he could. "Eddie. Eddie, look at me, please."

Tucking his quivering lower lip into his mouth, Eddie slowly turned his head towards Ben.

"We understand that you're angry. We know you're worried about Richie. We are, too." Before Eddie could say anything, he continued. "We have tried helping Richie. All of us." He motioned towards Bill and Stan, who both nodded. "He doesn't want to talk to us about his nightmares, or about what happened the night your mom burst into your room. You, though…he might talk to you."

"I've tried, Ben. I've tried so fucking hard to get him to open up, but he just won't. It doesn't matter what I do, he just won't talk about what's bothering him," Eddie said dejectedly.

"Then he needs to see how much he's affecting you. Look at you, you've hardly eaten anything today," Ben motioned towards Eddie's sandwich. "And you've been following in his footsteps of not talking as much as you used to. We don't want to see what's happening to him happen to you." He paused to take a sip of his milk.

Eddie just looked at him, his demeanor much more relaxed now. "You're right. I need to try. For his sake. Did you guys get him to talk about anything at all? Anything I can use?"

Stan shifted in his seat and Eddie's eyes focused on him. "Well, uh…I wasn't sure when the best time to tell you this would be, but…"

Eddie leaned forward, heart beating against his chest. "What is it, Stan?"

Stan gulped. "I…saw him with a group of stoners the other day after school."

Eddie groaned and slammed his head on the table, crushing his sandwich. "Fuck."

* * *

"Remind me why you begged me to come out here?" Richie asked later that same day as he and Eddie set their backpacks down and sat on the rocks at the quarry. "The water is too cold by this time in the year, Eds. If you wanted to see me shirtless, all you had to was ask. And why is it just us two?"

Eddie stuck his hands in his jacket pockets and was trying to think about what to say. His mind had been racing since lunch period.

Realization dawned upon Richie after a bit. "Ah, I see. Is this another 'intervention', Eds? You're gonna talk to me again alone and try to make me better?"

The shorter boy just looked over at his friend with a scowl. More of Richie's irritability. It was becoming more and more common. Now he definitely didn't know what to say, afraid he was just going to set Richie off.

Richie sighed and scooted closer to his friend. "Sorry, Eds. I didn't mean for it to sound like that."

"Yes, you did," Eddie said flatly. "It's pretty obvious you don't want help anymore. I don't even know why I bother."

"Because you're a super cool dude that cares about his friends? About me?"

"Yeah, well, you don't seem to care, so why should I?" Eddie was being completely honest.

"I do care, Eds. Just…" He went to open up one of the pockets on his backpack before stopping.

"You bring it with you to school?" Eddie asked.

Richie pursed his lips and looked down. "So, you know."

"Yeah. Stanley told me. I didn't want to believe it, but…" He paused. "Go ahead. Just don't get smoke in my face."

Richie proceeded to unzip his bag and pull out a sealed pencil box, containing a couple of joints and a Zippo lighter with a big skull plastered on the front and back. It was fitting, Eddie decided, considering Richie's situation.

He flipped open the lighter and ignited the wick. After lighting the joint and taking a hit, Richie spoke, smoke escaping from his mouth with every word. "I was gonna tell you, you know."

"Hm," is all Eddie said, staring out at the rock formations.

"I was," Richie swore. "I just didn't know how to tell you." He took another hit, inhaling and holding the smoke in before letting it out through his mouth and nose.

"Funny, Stan said pretty much the same thing," Eddie recalled. He turned his head towards the other boy. "You should've just told me. I'm not a fragile little kid anymore. I'll be 15 this school year."

"No need to remind me, Eds," Richie replied. He took another hit. "I know how-"

He broke off into a coughing fit, hunched over with the joint precariously held out to the side. When he didn't stop after the first couple coughs, Eddie moved from his position and gave Richie a couple pats on the back, doing his best to not let any smoke get near him. When Richie's coughing finally subsided, his eyes were glazed over and squinted.

"Ah, fuck, that feels better," Richie declared, looking up at the sky with his eyes closed and breathing in through his nose. "So much better."

Eddie sighed and reached into his backpack for a water bottle. He always carried one on him because you just never knew what was in the school's supply. He held it out to Richie, who took it graciously and took a couple long sips.

"Thanks, Eddie Spaghetti," Richie said, smiling sweetly.

"Yup," Eddie muttered, going back to his previous position a couple feet away from his friend.

After a couple minutes of silence and more hits, Richie said, "I know you don't approve, but I promise it really does help me. I sleep better most nights after one of these." He gestured towards the diminishing joint.

"Yeah, well, you're not trying to sleep right now," Eddie pointed out. "And you're gonna do it anyways, so it really doesn't matter what I think."

Richie turned towards Eddie. "Of course it matters, Eds. If it bothers you, I wanna talk about it."

Eddie snickered at that. "You're willing to talk about you smoking pot but not about your nightmares? You know, something that you really should be doing instead of finding coping mechanisms that probably won't even work forever?"

Richie's face fell and he looked down before taking another hit. A couple more and the joint would be finished. "You don't know that it won't work forever," he muttered softly.

"I know that there's no way you have the money for it just lying around. That's why you don't go to lunch anymore, right? Because you just spend whatever lunch money your parents give you on that shit?"

Richie didn't say anything, just continuing to stare blankly at the ground that had become a lot more fascinating in his condition.

"I don't see how you could still have enough money to support this new habit of yours," Eddie continued. "Even with skipping lunch."

Richie lifted his head, beginning to sway from side to side, the joint burning out, forgotten. "So, I may or may not take some money from my drunk of a mother. She'll never notice, because I'm careful. Don't worry, my man."

"Don't tell me what I should or should not be worried about," Eddie said sternly. "Listen to what I am telling you and try to understand, even though that may be hard for you right now. You are not getting better. In fact, I think you're worse than you've ever been."

Richie laughed at that. He stopped laughing when the joint burned down to his fingers and he dropped it instinctively. Eddie stood up and stomped on it since Richie wasn't making a move to extinguish it. The last thing he needed right now was for Richie to start a forest fire.

Eddie looked at his friend with nothing but utter condemnation.

"I feel great, Eddie Spaghetti, so just relax," Richie chuckled. "You should smoke with me sometime."

Eddie's mouth dropped open at the asinine request. Richie knew Eddie better than that. "You're not even thinking clearly right now," Eddie stated, sitting back down.

"I don't need to think clearly. I'm happy with my best friend in the whole world," Richie smiled, putting an arm around Eddie. "Can't it just be that simple for once?"

Eddie flinched at the smell of Richie's breath, reeking of pot. He looked over at Richie, their faces inches from each other. Richie was giving him one of his brilliant smiles and, despite the fact that he was worried sick about his friend's overall well-being, he couldn't help but smile too. Eddie looked back out over the quarry. Richie rested his head on Eddie's shoulder. Eddie couldn't help but notice how touchy Richie was being.

"You know," Eddie said after just enjoying Richie's company for a while, "Something has been on my mind lately. About the night my mom found you in my room."

Despite the night bringing back dark memories for Richie, he was way too baked to care. "Oh yeah, Eds? What's that?"

"When you woke me up, when you were having your nightmare, you said, 'Get away from him, you asshole.' Who…who were you referring to?" Eddie anxiously for a response, heart beating rapidly. He thought he already knew the answer, but not knowing for sure was killing him inside.

Richie smiled, lifted his head, and brought his mouth up to Eddie's ear. "You of course, Eds. The ones with you scare me the most."

Eddie was taken aback at Richie's confession. This was the first time he had spoken about what his nightmares contained. This had to be progress, he hoped.

"So, you dreamt about It getting me? That's what had you so frightened?" he asked.

Richie nodded. "Do you remember when we were in that kitchen, when you broke your arm? I saw how terrified you were, how you couldn't move even though Bill and I were begging you to. Nothing had ever scared me so much as the possibility of you getting eaten by that fucking clown."

"I remember," Eddie recalled, shuddering at the memory. "You held my face in your hands and tried to get me to look at you instead of It. Then you snapped my arm back into place. That hurt like a bitch, you know."

"I bet," Richie laughed. "You were _pissed_."

The two boys laughed, Richie loudest and longest of all.

"Fuck, I don't know what I'd do without you, Eddie Spaghetti," Richie admitted. "Wait…you haven't asked me to stop calling you that today. What gives? Have you finally submitted?"

Eddie smirked. "Nah. I guess I just forgot how much I hate it. I was too worried about you."

Richie grinned the widest and toothiest he had in a long time. He wrapped his arms around Eddie in a crushing hug. "Thanks, Eddie."

Eddie let himself be hugged and stared out over the quarry again. After what must have been hours, the sun started to descend.

"It's getting late," Eddie finally said. "I have a lot of homework to do. How are you feeling?"

"My high is basically gone, if that's what you mean," Richie said, with a slight hint of melancholy in his voice. "I hate when that happens."

"Richie…" Eddie started.

"If you give me shit about smoking one more time, I am going to fucking flip, Eds," Richie said harshly.

Eddie turned towards Richie at his sudden decrease in geniality. "Whoa, what the fuck gives? We were sitting here enjoying ourselves. Why are you suddenly acting like this?"

"Because you were gonna lecture me about how I need to stop smoking and find a better way to deal with my problems," Richie said angrily, standing up.

"I wasn't!" Eddie insisted. "I was just gonna say-"

"I know what you were gonna say," Richie snapped. "I don't need this shit right now."

Richie packed up his things and slung his backpack over his shoulder.

"Richie, don't walk away from me angry. Please," Eddie attempted. "This was such a nice afternoon. Don't ruin it by leaving like this!"

Richie pushed his glasses up his nose and looked at Eddie coldly. "You ruined it, not me. You should have just kept your mouth shut and complaints to yourself."

Eddie was too confused to say anything. He simply didn't understand. Was Richie really that upset about not being high anymore?

"Whatever. Goodbye, Richie," he said defeatedly. He turned away, trying to hold back tears of frustration and failing.

Richie noticed and his anger seemed to waver at the sight of Eddie crying.

"Goodbye, Eddie," he said, walking away.

Eddie looked at his friend's backside as he left him. He let out a sob. He had made progress, he thought. He was close to getting Richie to finally talk about his nightmares. If he could've done that, he was sure he could've begun to help Richie heal from his wounds. Now he wasn't sure if he'd ever talk to him about them again.

Tears streaming down his face, Eddie looked back at the sunset, but all he saw instead of beauty was darkness closing in.


	4. Hangovers and Awakenings

Staring at his bedroom ceiling, Eddie's mind was racing. About homework, his grades, his friends…about Richie. He couldn't include Richie in the same thoughts the Losers were in, not anymore. Richie had gone back to secluding himself from his friends once again. They would still check in with him whenever they saw him, but his responses were short and his face gave away that he was miserable. Eddie couldn't stand to see Richie at such a low point after all he had done to try to help him, so he usually stepped away when any of his friends went to attempt conversation with him. Richie never seemed to notice or care. They hadn't said more than a few words to each other in over a month now.

That hurt the most. As if on cue, Eddie felt his eyes begin to water after rethinking about Richie cutting ties with him. No matter what he thought about or how hard he tried to just forget, he would always find himself thinking about Richie and what he had lost. All of the laughs, the tears, the petty arguments, the teasing they used to do, none of it seemed to matter in the end. Richie had abandoned Eddie and the latter wasn't completely sure why.

Eddie turned onto his side and let a tear escape, closing his eyes and breathing in deeply. He wished he knew when and where things had gone wrong. It wouldn't get him over losing Richie, but it would at least end the fear of the unknown he was feeling. What was it that he did, specifically, that made Richie seemingly hate him now, after all they had been through?

It had to have been that day at the quarry. Everything had changed. He hadn't just lost his best friend, he had lost a piece of himself. Richie, who was probably the most annoying person in the world but the best friend a boy like Eddie could ask for. Richie, who had been there for Eddie throughout the entire ordeal with It, going as far as to risk his life to try to save Eddie when the boy was paralyzed with fear in the Well House. Richie, who made Eddie the happiest out of all his friends with his mere presence.

That was all gone now, and Eddie didn't find many reasons to be happy anymore. The remnants of the Losers' Club were great friends to him, which helped. Eddie thought that, by this point, they were the only thing keeping him from just shutting down and giving in to the creeping depression he had been feeling lurking ever since Richie had left him at the quarry.

Feeling a sudden surge of energy, Eddie sat up. Lying in bed wouldn't help him, he decided. He had to get ready for school anyways. Sighing, Eddie got out of bed and proceeded to follow his daily morning routine: get dressed, eat the breakfast his mom had prepared for him, brush his teeth, and comb his hair. After all was said and done, his mom drove him to school.

* * *

Bill, Ben, and Stan were waiting for him near his locker, talking amongst themselves as they waited for their friend.

Eddie's face brightened a little, but fell just as quickly at the realization that had just come to him. This was what was left of the Losers' Club. Beverly was gone, Mike didn't go to school with them and was busy more often than not lately, and Richie…

"Hey," Eddie said gloomily, approaching his friends. Ben moved aside so he could open his locker to put away the books he didn't immediately need.

"Hey, Eds," Bill welcomed.

Eddie's heart pained at the nickname and he stopped putting books away and just stared blankly at the inside of his locker. Bill called him that occasionally and he had no issues with it, but he couldn't help but think of Richie when he heard it. Everything led back to Richie these days, it seemed.

"Eddie?" Bill asked, putting a hand on his shoulder. "You okay?"

Eddie finished up with his locker and closed it. He turned towards the three of four friends he had left. He simply shrugged, looking off to the side.

His friends looked at him sadly.

"Another bad morning?" Stan asked softly.

"Yeah. Just a lot of overthinking in bed, as usual," Eddie confessed.

"You shouldn't be alone if you start to get like that," Ben counseled. "You can always call one of us if you need to. Better yet, keep yourself distracted so your mind can't start thinking about him."

"You know it's not that easy." Eddie leaned against his closed locker. "It's all I can think about. No matter what, everything just leads back to Richie. Everything. I can't do it anymore, guys."

Bill gave the smaller boy his most caring face. "Yes, y-you can, Eddie. N-never say you can't do something. Everything will be f-f-fine."

Eddie didn't look convinced, so Stan decided to speak up. "We were waiting for you so we could walk over to Richie's locker together to check on him as usual. We think you should come with us."

Eddie looked at his feet. "He doesn't want to see me. He hates me now."

"I don't think he does," Ben offered. "He's in a really dark place right now, and you're not that far behind him. After seeing how you two changed after he flipped out on you at the quarry last month, well…I think you two need each other, if I'm making sense."

Eddie looked at Ben with a puzzling look on his face.

"We shouldn't talk about that here," Stan whispered, looking around. "Nobody beside us needs to hear that conversation." He turned towards Eddie. "Come on, let's go see Richie."

Eddie let out a whine.

"We'll be with you the wh-whole t-time," Bill assured him. "We're j-just gonna a-ask if he wants to sit with us at l-lunch. You can't keep avoiding him, Eddie. It's k-killing you inside."

"He doesn't want to see me!" Eddie insisted.

"He'll never admit it, but he does," Ben affirmed. "He misses you just like you miss him."

"Ben, "not here"," Stan hissed. He looked at his wristwatch. "We should get going, there's only a couple of minutes until the bell rings. You coming, Eddie?"

Eddie bit his lip. "I…sure. Just, don't leave me alone with him. Please."

"We w-wouldn't do that to you," Bill promised. "Come on."

The three boys started in the direction of Richie's locker down the hall, with Eddie in the rear, hands in his pockets and looking down as he meekly followed them.

They found Richie where they expected him to be, at his locker with his backpack on the floor next to him as he lethargically organized himself for the next few periods, slowly putting books into his locker with a Gatorade standing upright just inside.

"H-hey, Richie," Bill began with a smile on his face. "How're you doing?"

Richie turned towards Bill, still trying to put a book away. When they saw Richie's face, the Losers couldn't look away at first. Richie had big bags under his eyes, his hair was untidy, and his glasses were slightly crooked.

"Hey, Bill," Richie responded weakly. He acknowledged Ben and Stan, not yet seeing Eddie.

"Hey," Bill said with more concern. "Are you alright?"

"What?" Richie closed his eyes, as if he was trying to clear his head. "Y-yeah, I'm fine, why?"

"You look horrible," Stan said honestly. "Like you were forced out of bed this morning or something. Your hair is a bigger mess than it usually is."

"Just tired." Richie took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes, reaching blindly for the Gatorade and knocking it over in the process, its sticky fluids pouring onto the outside of the lockers adjacent to his all the way down to the floor.

"Shit," Richie cursed, bending down clumsily to pick up the now-empty energy drink.

"I'll go get some paper towels from the bathroom," Stan offered, leaving to do his self-assigned task.

The absence of one body exposed Eddie, who wasn't necessarily hiding from Richie, but obscured enough to the point where Richie in his odd state didn't notice him. He did now.

The two made awkward eye contact, Richie's right foot standing in the puddle that was slowly spreading.

"Hi, Richie," Eddie said sheepishly.

"Hey, Eddie."

"Are you doing okay today?"

"Uhh…fuck it, no. No, I'm not. I-"

He was cut off by the sound of the bell ringing, signaling that students needed to get to their classes.

"Fuck! That's so fucking loud!" Richie complained, covering his ears and leaning his head against his locker.

Eddie found himself becoming concerned at the sight of Richie seemingly in pain, taking a couple steps towards him and putting a hand on his shoulder.

"It's only as loud as it usually is…what's wrong, Richie?" Eddie asked.

Before Richie could respond, Stan hurriedly returned with an armful of paper towels.

"You're gonna make Ben and me late for Math, Trashmouth," Stan grumbled as he dropped the wad on the spilled Gatorade. "Hurry up and help me. And move out of the puddle, Eddie."

Eddie hadn't even realized he was standing in the spill and jumped away. "Shit."

"'Shit' indeed," Stan said as he used a foot to wipe up the spill. "Okay, I need to go. The janitor can get the last of it. See you guys later."

As Stan hurried away with Ben in tow, Eddie realized nobody was going to ask, so he cleared his throat. "Do you wanna sit with us at lunch today, Richie?"

As he watched Eddie stand on a stretch of paper towels to dry his feet, Richie responded. "I guess…"

"Wait, really?" Eddie asked incredulously as Bill grinned and said his goodbyes, turning and walking fast towards his first class, leaving Eddie and Richie alone. "You will?"

Richie looked down at Eddie. "Why were you hiding from me behind the others?"

"I wasn't really hiding, you just didn't see me. I also thought you didn't want to…you know, see me. After what happened..."

Richie sighed. "Eds…"

He was interrupted by the bell again, causing him to once again cover his ears and let out a loud, drawn-out groan.

"Do you need me to walk you to the nurse's office?" Eddie offered.

"No, I think we should walk to our Biology class because I already made you late," Richie said remorsefully. "I'm sorry, Eds."

"I could've left when the bell rung the first time," Eddie pointed out, beginning to walk down the hall with Richie at a slow pace, as Richie was really sluggish today for some reason.

"You probably should have," Richie suggested. "I'm a mess today."

"I noticed that," Eddie said with curiosity. "Did you smoke before bed last night?"

Richie rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. "Can…can we talk about that stuff later? Maybe after school at my house? It's a long story."

"Sure," Eddie agreed, piqued with interest. "Are you gonna be okay for the rest of the day? You seem overwhelmed about something. You did say that you weren't okay before the bell rang."

"Once I sit down I should be good," Richie said confidently, avoiding the question.

Eddie gave him one last look of concern. "Okay."

* * *

Richie didn't speak much during Biology, opting to keep his head down for most of the class while covering his ears to shield out some of the noise. While Eddie was still worried about Richie and his oversensitivity to sound, he was just happy that Richie and him were talking again. He was in a great mood overall and would remain so until lunch.

Meeting his friends at their usual table, Eddie's smile that was plastered on the face for half the day vanished when he saw that Richie wasn't there.

After sitting down in his usual spot and unpacking his lunch, he addressed the table. "Hey, where's Richie? He said he would sit with us today at long last."

The others looked at him with straight faces for a brief moment.

"What? Did something happen? Is he okay?" Eddie asked hurriedly, feeling his heart start to beat faster with every word he said.

"Relax, Eddie. Richie's fine," Ben soothed. "Well, he will be at least. He's in the bathroom with diarrhea."

"'Explosive' I think i-is the word h-he used," Bill added.

"That's disgusting," Stan wailed, practically throwing down the sandwich he was about to take a bite out of. "Well, when Richie gets here, he can have my sandwich since you just ruined my appetite, Bill."

Eddie was even more confused. "Seriously, can someone tell me what's up?"

Ben cleared his throat before speaking. "So…you _don't_ know why Richie has been acting so 'off' today? Why he was drinking Gatorade or why he was overreacting to the bell?"

"I just assumed he had another bad night of nightmares," Eddie admitted. "I didn't put much thought into it. I was just happy he's speaking to me again. I think things are gonna get better! He even invited me over to his house after school. Hopefully I can get him to talk about his nightmares. I was so close last time before things got fucked. Now I think I'll be able to help him, as long as I don't push too hard."

"Well, maybe things are getting better for you," Stan murmured, pushing his sandwich across the table to where Richie would sit when he joined them. "Richie doesn't seem to be doing so good, Eddie."

Eddie didn't say anything. Instead, he sat dreading whatever news he was about to hear.

"Richie is severely hungover, dude," Stan said simply. "That's why he was drinking Gatorade. He was replenishing the electrolytes he lost from drinking last night. His entire body is, as Ben said, 'off' today. That's why he was freaking out over the bell and why he was clumsy enough to knock over his Gatorade. That's also why he has diarrhea." He looked at his sandwich with revulsion.

Eddie still didn't say anything. He just furrowed his brow and pursed his lips, looking down at his own untouched sandwich. As if on cue, Richie sauntered over to their table and clumsily plopped himself down next to Eddie a few moments later.

"Hey, guys! I swear, that shit made me lose at least five pounds. I feel fucking fantastic!" Richie exclaimed with a huge grin.

Stan groaned at Richie's comments. Ben and Bill said their hellos while Eddie bit his lip and stared pensively at the sandwich in his hands.

Richie looked at Eddie, who refused to make eye contact with him. "What's up, Eds? I'm sensing some negative energy here. I thought you'd be happy to see me here."

Eddie finally responded. "I would be if it were under better circumstances."

Richie tilted his head. "What better circumstances could there be? I just took the king of all shits and am sitting next to my cute Eddie Spaghetti along with you fine fellows." He held out his arms in front of him and spread them out as if to give them all an air hug before putting an arm around Eddie. "Don't worry, Eds, I'm 50% positive I washed my hands. And there's free food, too? Man, I should skip lunch more often if it means people will just be leaving things for me when I actually do show up!"

"You're welcome," Stan said sarcastically, completely unimpressed with Richie's monologue.

Richie looked up at Stan. "What's wrong, Stanley? Lose your appetite?"

"Yup. Bill and Ben were kind enough to describe your shitting experience before you got here," Stan replied. "Go ahead and eat it. If I take a bite out of that, I'm going to puke."

"I'll never turn down free food," Richie said contentedly, taking the sandwich in his hands.

"It appears to be the only thing you'll eat for lunch today anyway," Stan muttered.

The table sat in uncomfortable silence.

Richie hesitated before putting the sandwich into his mouth. "I don't carry money on me to school," he shrugged as he took a huge bite. "Tuna. You know me so well, Stan."

"I shouldn't have to feed you for you to eat, you know," Stan continued, no trace of humor in his voice. "You should be using the money your parents give you for lunch, not poison. Better yet, just make your own lunch and save their money for something less self-destructive, like the arcade or the movies."

Richie raised his eyebrows in surprise and took another bite. "Fuck off. I didn't ask you to give me shit, dude. Are you on your period or something? I'm just trying to eat the food you gave me and relax with my boys. Can we not do this right now?"

"When, Richie? When do you want to actually talk to us? After school? Tomorrow? Next week? Maybe never?" Stan interrogated, voice getting shaky as he became visibly more worked up.

Richie put the food down before giving the boy a scowl. "It'll be 'never' if you keep giving me shit about it. I was hoping today would end up being good unlike every other fucking day I've had lately, but you seem to want to prevent that from happening. Quit being a buzzkill and stop talking about it."

"I can't just sit here and pretend like you're okay! You're in the process of slowly killing yourself!" Stan finished with a red face and glassy eyes and Bill put a hand on his shoulder. "Do you honestly believe drinking is going to help you get better?"

Bill attempted to diffuse the situation, putting both hands on the curly-haired boy. "Stan, it's okay. Just t-try to relax. W-W-We're at school still. It can w-wait a couple hours. Everything's fine right now."

"Fuck no it's not. Stan needs to chill the fuck out. I don't want to spend my first lunch with my friends in months discussing my problems." He paused for a brief moment before continuing. "Look, they're coping mechanisms for now. I can handle it. I'm fine. Really." Richie took another huge bite of food.

Eddie couldn't take it anymore, just sitting angrily while his friends argued. "No, you're really not fine and it's obvious you can't handle it on your own. And I don't think any time would be good for you to talk about it," Eddie shot at him, sliding his sandwich towards him. "You should eat that as well since it seems you don't even care enough to supply yourself with any food whatsoever. It's sad, really."

"G-g-guys…" Bill stammered.

"Aww, come on, Eds, not you too," Richie said with a whine. "Is it too much to fucking ask for you guys to just shut up and let me eat? What's the big deal? My parents aren't _complete_ fuckups. I _do_ have food at my house that I eat."

"That's not an excuse to just not eat during the day o-or to keep doing these 'coping mechanisms' of yours!" Stan declared, raising his voice. "You're barely 15, what the hell are you doing?!"

"Everybody relax," Ben said, moving his hands in a downward motion. "Just take deep breaths."

"No, I'm not doing this anymore. I'm done. I-I can't watch Richie do this to himself anymore," Stan said standing up, teary-eyed. He looked from Bill, to Ben, to Eddie. "We're all supposed to watch out and be there for one another when one or more of us is in distress. What happened, guys? Losers are supposed to take care of each other and we're not."

"Stan, I was completely fine until you decided to have your meltdown," Richie snarled, hands shaking. He dropped the sandwich onto the table.

"You are _anything_ but fine," Eddie said with a soft voice. "You've been fucked up all morning! I didn't put everything together as fast as everybody else, but looking back now, you were! And you had fucking diarrhea. I can't believe you've fallen this low or that I let it happen. That any of us let it happen. Stan's right. You're too young to be this messed up."

Richie stood up abruptly, face red. "You know, Eds, I thought I was gonna have some jolly ol' times with my friends today, but you and Stan just took a giant shit on that, didn't you? I hope you're happy, because I'm not having lunch with you guys ever again after this shit show. I'm out of here," he concluded, standing up.

Bill gently sat an uncontrollably shaking Stan back down as Richie grabbed Eddie's sandwich.

"Thanks for the fucking sandwiches, guys." He stormed away and Eddie just watched him go.

"Just breathe," Bill whispered to Stan, who wiped his eyes and took several deep breaths.

"Guys, that was probably the worst way you could have handled that," Ben declared. "Now he's pissed off and who knows what he'll do when he gets home."

"I have a pretty good idea," Eddie said with conviction. He sighed.

Ben looked down with a sad expression. "I guess I can't blame you and Stan. I look at Richie now and he…he seems broken. And broken people do things, extreme things, to kill the pain."

"He needs Eddie to help alleviate the pain. Somehow," Stan sniffed, looking over at Eddie. "Also, I'm fine now, Bill. You can let go of me."

Bill removed a hand from Stan's back and cleared his throat. "Stan's right, Eddie. Y-you should go see R-Richie after school."

"Do you really think he's gonna wanna see me after what I said?" Eddie asked, chuckling miserably.

"It doesn't matter by this point," Ben threw in. "He _needs_ someone to talk to. You're closer to him than any of us are. It has to be you. I think it can _only_ be you by this point, Eddie. You affect his mood more than any of us and vice versa. He needs you."

Eddie was quiet, just contemplating what Ben said. "You think we like each other, don't you? Like, _really_ like each other."

"It's obvious he does," Stan put plainly. "I've never seen two people affect each other in the way you two do unless they were closer than friends or best friends. You two fit somewhere in that category."

Eddie wet his lips, a blush staining his cheeks. "Um…well…"

Bill smiled at the embarrassed Eddie. "It's okay, Eds. You know we w-w-won't make fun of you. I hope you weren't s-s-scared to tell us before."

"I wasn't sure if I felt that way or not," Eddie whispered, his heel hitting the floor rapidly, making his whole leg bounce. He had never discussed this kind of thing with anybody before. "And I was sure he didn't feel the same way, so…"

"Eddie, have you noticed how much he depends on you? How happy or upset you can make him? He usually doesn't let what people say bother him," Stan said. "And it's the same way for you. You have this dependency on him that's more than just friendship. I can tell. We all can."

Eddie cleared his throat. He felt so stupid for not putting the pieces together earlier. All of the affection Richie showed him, especially when he was high at the quarry and was all over Eddie. it all made perfect sense now. Even so, all this talk about his sexuality was making him uncomfortable, even though he knew he could trust his friends with anything. "So, what am I supposed to do with this information, Stanley? Go to his house and pour my heart out to him? Do you really think that'll fix him?"

"I never said it would fix him, or that I wanted you to do that. I want you to talk to him, show that you still care for him and will never leave his side, no matter what arguments you two get into."

"You're the one that started this past argument," Eddie pointed out.

"Indeed I did. I was angry. I still am. You are, too. You showed how ferocious you can be when it comes to him and he needed to see that. We may have come across as too harsh, but…" Stan trailed off.

"No, you definitely came across as too harsh," Ben stated. "But your hearts were in the right place."

"Look, the f-fact is, Richie needed an intervention," Bill pronounced. "I-It didn't happen like Ben and I h-hoped, but it happened. Now Eddie needs to continue it."

"You guys don't want to come with me?" Eddie questioned. "Shouldn't it be all of us, so he knows we're all there for him?"

"He's not going to be nearly as open with the rest of us," Ben answered. "Like I said before, it has to be you."

Eddie sat in silence, mulling over everything in his mind. "I'll do it, of course, but I'm…what if he doesn't want to talk to me? What then?"

"Then you say what you need to in order to make him listen," Stan said seriously. "He's sick and he needs you. Help him. Please." The last word was barely more than a whisper.

Eddie looked Stan right in the eye before addressing the rest of Losers. "I'm going to do my best, guys. I promise."

Bill nodded. "We know you will, Eddie. We know you'll be able to get to him. You're the only one that will be able to lead him back from the path he's heading down. That's the only thing you need to do alone. We'll help you from there. All of us. Losers take care of each other."

Their leader's articulate speech did not go unnoticed and Eddie felt confidence like he hadn't thought he was capable of feeling.

"Thank you, Bill," Eddie said earnestly and Bill nodded in response.

The bell rang and Eddie looked over at Richie's empty spot. He was going to fix this. He was going to fix Richie. He had to.


	5. This Heart of Mine

**A/N: Well, here we are, the last chapter. I barely managed to get it out before the week was over! It's been a fun ride, everybody, and I hope the wait was worth it. I'm not sure if I'm going to be writing anymore of these two, because balancing fanfiction, school, and a job takes a lot of time. I'm happy that I wrote this, though, and I hope people enjoy the long-awaited conclusion!**

* * *

The day dragged on painfully slow. Richie had basically shut down for the rest of the day, choosing to not pay attention to anything in his remaining classes, including Eddie, who he had the most classes with out of any of his friends. Eddie tried to initiate conversation with him several times, but he couldn't get the boy to say much. Eventually, he gave up out of frustration and let Richie sulk for the rest of the seemingly never-ending school day. The only good thing about the remainder of the day, Eddie thought, was that Richie ate Eddie's sandwich, getting more food into his stomach.

Eddie would have loved to have been able to say that he rushed straight to Richie's house after school to fix the mess he had helped create earlier that day at lunch. He wished he could have confronted the issue head-on and resolved it before having to deal with anything else. Life, in the form of bad weather and his mother, had other plans for him that day, unfortunately.

The worsening weather meant that Mrs. Kaspbrak drove her son to and from school every day, leaving Eddie powerless as to where he wound up after getting into her car. He ended up getting a flu shot after school and, no matter how much Eddie repeated that he had lots of homework to get done, his mother would not be deterred.

Eddie found himself waiting for the better part of an hour in the doctor's office for his name to be called. He constantly shifted uncomfortably in his seat and his mother ignored any pleas from the boy.

"You know how the parents at your school don't vaccinate their children, Eddie-bear," his mother told him as she filled out a consent form. Eddie didn't know that, but he kept his mouth shut and waited anxiously for his turn so he could get the shot and go home. When a nurse called his name at last, he practically sprinted towards her and impatiently in another room until the nurse had everything in order and gave him the shot.

After striking up a boring conversation with the nurse and then the receptionist, Mrs. Kaspbrak took her son home. Eddie set his backpack down near the front door and quickly used the bathroom. He told his mom he was going to go over Bill's house to have a homework session with his friends, but Mrs. Kaspbrak wasn't having any of it. Eddie had already informed his mom of the copious amount of homework he had, and she wasn't about to let him leave the house before she saw him spend several hours at the kitchen table doing Math and English assignments with no other company but hers.

Homework was slow-going for Eddie. He couldn't seem to focus on the equations he had to do. His mind kept wandering towards Richie. Richie's mood had not improved as school came to a close and Eddie could only speculate on he could be doing at that moment. He could be drinking right now and Eddie was not there to stop him and help him. He hated not being there for Richie when he really needed it. No, he couldn't think about that. He needed to get his homework done so he could leave.

The only problem with that was the fact that his mom was just finishing cooking dinner as he came close to completing everything. As he finally put his pen down and announced to his mom that he was finished, Mrs. Kaspbrak said, "Oh, just in time for dinner then. Put your books away, honey, so there's room on the table."

Eddie groaned. "Mom, I promised Bill and the others I'd be there by now," he lied, glancing at the kitchen clock. It was almost 6:20 p.m. The stop at the doctor's office and his homework had eaten up his afternoon. Eddie bit his bottom lip. "I can eat at Bill's, he'll make sure I don't go hungry."

Mrs. Kaspbrak turned the stove off and removed a lid off a pot. "Eddie, take a look outside. You won't be going anywhere in this weather."

Eddie almost tripped over his backpack as he hurried towards the windows near the front door. He cursed under his breath so his mom wouldn't hear him.

Snow. It was snowing. Not a light snowfall that kids liked to build snowmen in, but a constant flurry that made visibility low with the sun having disappeared over an hour ago.

Eddie could have cried as he continued to watch the flakes racing across the window. His mom would never let him leave now, but all that meant was that he would have to sneak out before she could stop him. He _had_ to leave. Richie needed him.

He lethargically returned to the kitchen table as his mom plopped some food on a plate for him. Eddie hadn't realized how hungry he was and began to devour his food.

* * *

"I'm gonna go to my room and read, mom," Eddie called to his mother as he brought his plate up to the kitchen sink and rinsed it off.

As she climbed up the stairs to use the bathroom, his mother replied. "Alright, dear. I'll be doing some knitting in the living room in a bit."

When the sound of the bathroom door shutting could be heard from the bottom of the stairs, Eddie raced towards the telephone. He tried calling Richie's house, bouncing on his feet and clawing at the kitchen table out of anxiety. After the eighth ring with no answer, he hung the phone up with shaking hands.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Eddie swore, running his hands through his hair. He could feel his heart thumping against his chest as he pondered what to do next.

He picked up the phone again and called Bill. After exchanging pleasantries with Bill's mother, Bill was put on the phone.

"Hey, Eds. How did it g-go with Richie?" Bill asked from the other end.

"I haven't been over yet! My mom dragged me to get a flu shot after school and my big mouth let slip that I had a lot of homework to get done, so she kept me locked up until I finished! Then of course I had to stay for dinner and there's a blizzard outside and-" Eddie cut himself off, trying to focus on getting his breathing under control.

Bill's soothing voice was heard and Eddie held onto every word. "Eddie, t-try to relax and take d-d-deep breaths. Sit down i-if you have to."

Eddie followed Bill's advice and took a seat at the table, beginning to scrape his fingernails across the edge again. "I tried calling him, but there was no answer. I'm scared, Bill."

There was a moment of silence followed by Bill's voice. "Look, w-worst case scenario i-is that he's drinking, right? H-He might not want to answer the ph-phone. I'm sure h-he's fine."

Eddie clenched the hand that was busy making marks on the kitchen table. "I have to know for sure. I need to go over there."

"If you feel like you h-have to," Bill replied. "I know your m-mind is already made up. S-So why call me?"

"I need a favor," Eddie admitted. "I'm going to sneak out and head over to Richie's. I told her I'd be in my room so hopefully she won't notice until I'm long gone."

"Okay. W-What do you need from me?"

Eddie cleared his throat. "She's gonna call your house when she notices I'm gone. I need you to be the one to pick up the phone and tell her I'm over there. Since the weather is shitty and she refuses to drive in blizzards, I'm hoping she'll just stay put while I handle Richie."

"Eds, sh-she's gonna wanna h-hear your voice," Bill pointed out.

"Then just…I don't…fuck, I don't know, Bill," Eddie whined, his leg bouncing up and down. "I don't know what to do. I can't stop worrying about Richie and I feel like I'm about to have a panic attack."

"Listen, Eds, i-it'll be okay. I promise," came Bill's voice. "I'll just tell her the t-truth. She's going to be pissed either w-way, right?"

"Right," Eddie responded, feeling his chest start to relax. "I know what shit I'm getting myself into, so I guess you're right."

"Of course I am." Eddie could tell Bill was smirking on the other end, which brought a small smile to his own face.

"Okay, so I need to get going before my mom gets out of the bathroom. Thanks, Bill," Eddie said sincerely.

"A-Anytime, Eds. Good luck and be careful out there. Remind R-Richie that the rest of us are h-here for him," Bill concluded.

"I will. Okay, bye. I may or may not see you at school on Monday," Eddie said with only a little hint of humor in his voice, hanging up the phone and taking a deep breath.

As quickly and quietly as he could, Eddie, in addition to the t-shirt, sweater, briefs, and jeans he was wearing, bundled himself up in snow pants, a pair of wool socks, heavy winter boots, mittens, winter hat, heavy coat, and scarf he wrapped over his mouth and neck.

He stood near his front door, listening for any signs of his mother. Not hearing any, Eddie opened the door and stepped into the unpleasant conditions outside.

* * *

The journey over was slow-going, but he was making progress. That progress was temporarily impeded when, halfway to his destination, Eddie had slipped on a patch of ice and landed hard on his bottom. He had not initially picked himself up, instead resolving to lay on the sidewalk as the snow continued to fall in uneven swirls while pain soared through his body. To make matters worse, his scarf had become loose and his snow pants had started to ride up his legs. The wetness from the ground and continuously falling snow started to soak his jeans. He was thankful he was wearing wool socks, or else his feet would be at risk for frostbite by this point, he was fairly sure. He would never hear the end of it from his mother if that happened, not to mention the grounding he would receive for lying to her and sneaking out. Just for one second, Eddie thought that maybe this wasn't his best idea ever.

The thought just as quickly left his head. Whether or not it was a good idea didn't matter. This was for Richie. He was worth it. There wasn't anything he wouldn't do for the curly-haired, hilarious, loveable, irritating…traumatized, suffering, miserable boy. Eddie felt warm tears escape his eyes as he looked up at the dark sky.

As he mustered up the energy to sit up, a pile of snow from the above tree branches decided now would be a good time to come loose, covering the poor boy in more snow, getting under his scarf and soaking his neck. Grumbling to himself, Eddie removed his scarf and, with some effort, got to a standing position. He was still in pain and could tell he would be sore later on. He began limping in the direction of Richie's house.

* * *

Many bleak minutes later, Eddie lifted his head to look at the Tozier residence. There were lights on, but no cars in the driveway. Hobbling along the walkway towards the house, Eddie couldn't help but wonder what he would find himself in when he got inside. There were so many variables to consider and different ways to respond to each that Eddie was starting to feel overwhelmed.

At long last, Eddie found himself on the Toziers' front porch. He prayed to whatever being was in charge of the universe that he would never, ever have to experience that trek again. In any case, he was somewhat shielded from the snow now. Good timing, too, because he felt like he was about to collapse. After using his scarf to wipe down his neck and face, he brought a hand to the doorbell and rang it twice. Once the ring of the mechanism faded, the only sound audible to Eddie was the wind continuing to rage on.

After waiting for over a minute, Eddie rang the doorbell again, knocking on the door with his other hand as he did.

"Come on, Richie," Eddie complained, giving the door a few more knocks. He tried to turn the knob, but the door was locked. He knew Richie was home, because the Toziers would never leave electricity running while they were out; it was just the way that family was. He _didn't_ know if Richie was passed out drunk or not, but he had to assume he wasn't for both his and Richie's sakes.

Eddie approached a nearby window and tried to peer inside. All he could see through the blinds were lights from deeper inside the house. He went back to the door.

"Richie!" Eddie yelled, his voice partially being drowned out by the storm. "I'm fucking freezing here, open the fucking door already!" He banged on the door as loudly as he could.

The sound of the door unlocking was heard and the door swung open.

"Fucking finally," Eddie cursed, shoving his way past a flustered Richie and dropping to his knees once he was inside.

"My knight in shining armor has arrived!" Richie giggled. "If you're going to propose to me, I suggest you turn yourself to face me, Sir Eddie."

"That's not even how it works, dumbass," Eddie said hotly. "I'm freezing, I'm in pain, and I need to get out of these soaked clothes."

"Don't let me stop ya," Richie teased, putting a hand on Eddie's shoulder to steady himself. Turning his head to take one look at Richie, Eddie could immediately tell he had been drinking.

"You're drunk. Great. I knew I would arrive too late," Eddie muttered as Richie helped Eddie to his feet.

Richie simply shrugged. "I'm not _drunk_ drunk. Just had some of Mom's shit bottom shelf rum without her knowing a little while ago. And I was about to bring up a bottle of wine to my room before you showed up. Just having some trouble opening it is all."

Eddie kicked his boots off near the front door. "You do realize she's going to notice an entire bottle of wine suddenly vanishing from her stash, right?"

Deciding organizing Eddie's boots was necessary, Richie knelt down to adjust their position before responding. " _Au contraire_ , my dear Eddie. She was already kinda drunk when I got home from school and told me I could have it if I finished my homework. Such a caring mother. So, after bullshitting my assignments until her and Dad were gone, here we are."

"Here we are," Eddie repeated, removing his hat, mittens, coat, and snow pants. "Congratulations, you're officially useless for the night."

"I'm not useless," Richie insisted, standing up, body swaying ever so slightly. "I just fixed your boots so they look good next to the door."

"What?" Eddie asked harshly. "That doesn't even make sense." He put his hat, scarf, and mittens near a radiator before hanging up his coat and snow pants near the door.

Richie shrugged again. "Made sense to me. Don't get like that, Eds."

"I'm not going to act supportive when you're drowning yourself in alcohol," Eddie asserted. He walked into Richie's kitchen, where he noticed a bottle of cheap red wine on the counter with a corkscrew sticking out the top of the cork.

Richie followed the shorter boy, bare feet slapping loudly on the floor. He shook his head in an attempt to clear the faint cloudiness he was feeling. "So, you're saying you don't care about me and how I'm feeling? Is that it?"

Eddie turned towards his friend. "What? No! I'm just saying that…look, I'm sorry. You have no idea what I went through to get here. To see _you_ , I shouldn't have to mention. Owww..." He stopped to gently touch his lower back.

"You good?" Richie asked with care in his voice, moving closer towards Eddie.

Eddie let out a small groan. "No, I fell on my ass on the way here. Pretty much everything hurts."

"Well, here…" Richie took the wine with the corkscrew still attached to the top in one hand and slung an arm around Eddie's waist. "Let's head up to my room and get you warm."

Eddie eyed the bottle of wine before sighing, letting himself be helped up to Richie's bedroom.

Once inside, Eddie closed the door and went through Richie's closet and pulled out a shirt. He peeled his wet shirt off, noticing how Richie was staring at him as he did so. Eddie opened his mouth to say something, but shook his head and proceeded to put on the shirt he had commandeered.

The two remained silent as Eddie removed his socks and then his jeans, drawing more stares from Richie. If Eddie's cheeks weren't already red from the cold, he could be blushing. He still didn't say anything as he climbed into Richie's bed, covering himself in blankets.

"You can sit down, ya know. It is your bed," Eddie pointed out, thankful for the almost overwhelming warmth to his legs and chest.

"Oh. Right." Richie shook his head again and took a seat at the end of his bed, fiddling with the corkscrew, making slow progress.

"Why aren't you madder at me for earlier? I know you've had a bit to drink, but still…"

Messing with the lever on the corkscrew clumsily, Richie replied, "I was pissed at Stan, I was mostly just feeling hurt when it came to you."

"Yeah…I'm sorry, you know," Eddie said with as much sincerity as he could muster.

"It's fine," Richie mumbled, the cork beginning to come loose. "I can't stay mad at you. You should know that."

"Yeah. I do know that. Better now than I did before…" Eddie swallowed and took a breath to try to calm the oncoming anxiety he was feeling.

Popping off the cork and setting the corkscrew to the side, Richie sat as if he were in deep thought. "Oh, shit…you know, don't you?"

"That you have a crush on me? Yeah," Eddie responded, his voice barely more than a whisper. It felt weird discussing this, but he felt like he had to get it all out in the open before Richie drank more. Anything to deter him from drinking out of that bottle.

Whatever hopes Eddie had about Richie not drinking were squandered when the boy huffed and took a long swig of wine, almost coughing some back up as the foul taste went down his throat. "Fuck. My mom doesn't get anything that tastes good." He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes with a hand.

"Richie, put down the bottle, please," Eddie requested, sitting up. "I just want to talk about it."

"No. No, no. I can't," Richie gasped. "Everything will be ruined forever. I can't have that happen, not now. I need you, Eds."

Eddie moved so he was sitting next to Richie, still wrapped up in adequate blankets. He put a hand on Richie's shoulder. "Richie…"

Richie looked at him with sad eyes. Eddie noticed how much Richie was beginning to shake. He couldn't imagine how vulnerable Richie must be feeling. His heart was basically in Eddie's hands. "I'm sorry, Eds. I didn't think you'd ever find out."

"It's okay. Really. I uh…" Eddie cleared his throat and Richie took another swallow of wine before tilting his head at Eddie.

Realization dawned upon Richie as he saw Eddie struggling with his words. "Oh, shit…you mean to tell me that my feelings aren't unfounded?"

Eddie smiled sweetly at him. "You don't have to worry. They're not. Despite everything you're putting me through, they're not. I promise."

Richie gave one of those stupidly happy smiles that Eddie was beginning to think he would never see again. It was contagious, a smile breaking across Eddie's own face. Richie wrapped bother arms around Eddie in a bone-crushing hug, almost tipping the bottle over.

"To be honest, I'm surprised you figured it out with you in your…condition," Eddie said glumly. He returned the hug and the two boys held each other in a moment Eddie wished would never end.

It did end, with the two breaking apart and Richie setting the bottle down on the floor, to Eddie's relief. Richie turned to face him with complete adoration in his eyes, making Eddie noticeably blush. "I told you, I'm not _that_ drunk. I can still think. Sort of." He scratched the side of his head.

Eddie let out a sigh. He noticed Richie staring into his eyes, occasionally glancing at his lips. He knew what Richie wanted and would have loved to give it to him, but he didn't want to kiss Richie when he was under the influence of alcohol.

"So, uh…now that that's settled…where do we go from here?" Eddie asked.

"Well, it goes without saying that you're my boyfriend now. As for what's next, I have an idea…" Richie began, leaning in slightly.

Eddie stopped him before he could continue to say or do anything. "No kisses. I want our first kiss to not be when you're drinking."

"I stopped, though!" Richie whined, pulling back.

"Look, I just think that we should save it for another time, okay?" Eddie eyed him seriously.

Richie pouted, but Eddie didn't give in. The wine bottle was picked up again and Richie was visibly bummed.

"Can you please put the bottle down? There's more I wanted to talk to you about."

"You don't think I know that, Eds? I know what else you want to discuss. If we're doing that, I need a little more of this," Richie said, upending the bottle and taking a long swig.

Eddie was silent as Richie took another mouthful. "Do you _want_ to get better, Richie?"

Richie had just finished recovering from all the wine he just ingested before looking at Eddie with an offended expression. "Why would you even ask me that? You think I _want_ to feel like this? You think I _want_ to be a complete fucking mess, to the point where my friends are starting to get sick of me?"

"Whoa, whoa. Time out," Eddie stated. " _Nobody_ is getting sick of you, Richie. All of us are here for you. Me, Bill, Stan, Ben, Mike, all of us. You know we care about you."

"You guys sure have a funny way of showing it," Richie chuckled, head swimming from the wine. "Attacking me at lunch when all I wanted was to sit with you guys because I missed you all. I just wanted things to go back to normal," he finished emotionally.

"They still can," Eddie assured gently. "But you need to stop drinking and smoking as a way to deal with your problems. Speaking of which, are you still smoking to help you sleep?"

Richie laughed a little louder and longer than he should have, a sign that the alcohol was beginning to affect him more. "What's the need? A couple sips of whatever will make me sleep like a fucking baby. No clowns, no It, nothing." Noticing that Eddie wanted more of an answer than that, he continued. "It's like you told me once at…I don't know remember where we were, but you said that I couldn't afford pot forever. Turns out my Eddie was completely correct! I ran out one night and was panicking until I saw that my mom was passed out with a bottle of rum sitting oh so conveniently near her. Well…you can finish that thought," he concluded.

Eddie went to take the bottle away from Richie, but the other boy snatched it away, standing up.

"No, you're not taking this away. I need it." He took another sip.

"Richie…Richie, stop. I wanna talk to you about this, but I can't do that if you're just going to get drunk. You need to talk to me here," Eddie pleaded.

"How am I supposed to talk about it, Eds? How the fuck am I supposed to talk about it?" Richie's face was red and was getting more and more worked up. "I just want it to _stop_!"

He slammed the bottle down on his dresser, rattling everything on it and knocking over some things.

Eddie sheepishly stood up and inched closer to his friend. "It won't stop if you keep doing this to yourself."

Richie spun around to face him. "What do you care?"

"What do _I_ care? I let you sleep in my bed when I wasn't allowed to, I told you I have feelings for you, I didn't protest when you called me your boyfriend, and you have the nerve to ask that? Listen to me. When you do this shit, you are not just affecting yourself, you're affecting me. Not just me, the others as well. We've been watching you suffer for months, trying our best to help you and you just push us away over and over and over again! Well, guess what, Richie? I'm out of ideas." He sat back down on the bed and continued. "I don't know how else to do to help you. I just don't. I defied my mom to come here, you know. She told me I wasn't to go anywhere and I lied to her. I went out in a fucking _blizzard_ for you, Richie! I hurt my ass, snow made contact with my skin, I could've gotten hypothermia! Do you even care about _that_?"

After listening to Eddie's rant, Richie turned around towards his dresser and took a small sip from the bottle. "I care," he said, not looking at Eddie. "You know I do. I love you…more than anything. More than my parents. I would…be lost without you. You know that." His speech was a little slurred and hesitant by this point.

Eddie could feel himself start to tear up and he wiped his eyes with the back of one hand. "So, you do get it. How much I care about you, how much pain you're putting me through?" Richie nodded and Eddie let out a sad chuckle. "Ben was right. I _do_ need you. And right now, you need me. We need each other...and I need you to talk to me about your nightmares."

Richie was silent for a while, sitting back down next to Eddie, bottle still in his hands. He looked down at it as he spoke. "They're…different every time. One time it's you and Stan, you and Bill, Ben…Mike...hell, even Beverly…other times it'll be just you…you're always there…"

Eddie waited patiently for Richie to collect his drunken thoughts. He would wait as long as he needed to. He didn't want to risk having Richie backtrack now.

"I'm always standing right there, always…always out of harm's way. I think. It taunts me, mocks me as It has you guys, whoever's there that night…and…It eats you guys, only…not right away. It tortures you guys with your fears, laughing at you. It rips all of you apart, limb from limb, but none of you die from that, no. Only when I'm on my knees begging It to stop…it won't…" Richie removed his glasses and wiped his eyes. He took another drink, prompting Eddie to wrap an arm around him.

"Go on," Eddie whispered. "I'm right here, I'm not leaving you."

Richie sniffed, nodding slightly. "When it's you, Eddie…It looks right at me and calls me all sorts of fucked up shit…it _knows_ my true feelings for you. It uses them against me. No matter…what I do, I can't save you. A-Any of you. All I can do is watch as It slowly kills the only people who have ever given a shit about me."

He sobbed loudly, tears streaming down his cheeks. Eddie let Richie rest his head on his shoulder and he grabbed Richie's free hand. "We're still here. Beverly may be gone, but the rest of us are still here, Richie. We haven't left you, and we won't now. Not after everything we've been through."

"Thank you," Richie breathed, gripping Eddie's hand tightly. "How…am I supposed to get over this, Eddie? How do I get it to stop?"

Eddie drew back and Richie lifted his head. The two stared straight into each other's eyes as Eddie answered. "By talking to your friends."

Richie's bottom lip quivered and before Eddie could do anything about it, Richie's lips were on his own. He had hoped their first kiss would be more special, but Eddie figured this constituted as a "special" moment if nothing else. Eddie only gently kissed back, a little awkwardly since this was his first time. He could taste the wine on Richie's breath. After a couple of seconds, Richie pulled back and began to stare at the bottle in his hands.

"Sorry," Richie mumbled, seeming to only now realize what he had did without asking for permission.

"Don't worry about it," Eddie said comfortingly. "I think we both needed that, despite your state."

"Yeah…" Richie trailed off, turning the bottle in his hands repeatedly. "Can you help me to the bathroom? There's…something I gotta do."

"Need to piss? Put the bottle down and let's go, then," Eddie said, standing straight up and helping Richie get to his feet. "Unless you need to puke, in which case I ask that you not do it on me."

Richie giggled. "Nah, not that…well, maybe…I just gotta empty that." He motioned towards the bottle that Eddie had taken from him.

A smile formed on Eddie's face and he guided his friend to the bathroom, where Richie poured the remainder of the wine down the drain.

Eddie pecked Richie on the cheek. "Good job. Now let's get you to your room."

Returning to Richie's room, Eddie led him towards the bed and Richie collapsed onto it, laying on top of the sheets face-first.

"Don't move, I'll be right back," Eddie sad, leaving momentarily.

Richie moaned when Eddie returned with a large glass of water, filled to the brim. "I just wanna sleep, Eds…"

"Not until you drink this," Eddie ordered, pointing to the glass of water. "Come on, now, sit up."

Richie did as he was told and sat up straighter. Eddie sat next to him and handed him the water, helping for the first couple of sips so Richie wouldn't spill it.

"I want you to finish that before you go to sleep," Eddie instructed. "Maybe more than that, depending on how you're feeling."

"I feel dizzy," Richie confessed, taking a sip.

Eddie pursed his lips. "Will you forget everything that happened tonight when you wake up in the morning?"

"Maybe some things, but…" Richie began coughing and Eddie gently patted his back until the fit subsided. "I won't forget what we talked about. I don't think I could even…even if I wanted to."

"Well, just in case, I'm gonna write a note down in one of your notebooks," Eddie pledged, getting up to rummage through Richie's backpack. He pulled out a notebook and a pen. He had to flip through quite a bit of Richie's doodles before finding a blank page in his Biology notebook. He began writing as Richie finished his water and laid his head down.

"Thanks for everything, Eds," Richie murmured. "I love you."

Eddie grinned and wiped an eye before a tear could escape. "Love you too, Richie. Even though you're the most aggravating shit on the planet."

Richie made a noise of acknowledgment and closed his eyes, drifting off to sleep.

* * *

The next morning found Eddie and Richie snuggled up close in bed together. Eddie was awakened by the sound of a car door slamming.

"Shit," Eddie grumbled, sitting up with his hair at odd angles. "That would be my mom."

He turned to Richie's sleeping form. The noise hadn't woken him up. Eddie smiled at the peaceful Richie and left a gentle kiss on his forehead. That along with the insistent doorbell ringing was enough to wake him up and he opened his eyes slowly, groaning extra loudly.

"What is it, Eds? I'm still sleeping off last night," Richie mumbled, turning towards his friend. His _boyfriend_ he had to remind himself, even though he could never tell anybody besides his friends that, not even his parents.

"Morning, Sleeping Beauty. Do you remember anything?" Eddie asked as he brushed Richie's hair out of his eyes.

Richie beamed at him. "Some things are cloudy, but I remember most of it, I think. We're totally dating now, right?" he asked hopefully.

Eddie responded by leaning down and pressing his lips to Richie's gently. "Yup," he smiled.

"Good." Richie held one of Eddie's cheeks with a hand, causing the smaller boy to blush. "So, I'm allowed to tell you how fucking adorable you are when you blush like that, right?"

"I think so. If-" He was cut off by the sound of more persistent ringing. "My mom is here," Eddie said morosely as he was brought back to reality. "I have to go."

"Ah, so it's time to face the succubus herself. Good luck, dear," Richie joked, shoving the other boy away playfully.

Eddie punched him in the shoulder and got out of bed when the noise of the doorbell being rung didn't stop. He pulled on his socks and jeans, which he had left near the radiator in Richie's room overnight. As much as he wanted to keep Richie's shirt on, he knew that his mother would instantly notice that the shirt wasn't his and he changed back into his own. He decided he would stick Richie's shirt in his coat somewhere and take it with him.

"Okay, so I probably won't see or talk to you until Monday," Eddie said with a frown. "I think it's fair if I let my mom ground me for the weekend."

"I mean, it's not, but you do you, hon," Richie said from the bed, not bothering to lift his head up.

"I liked it better when you called me 'Eddie Spaghetti,'" Eddie scoffed.

"Ah, but I gotta keep finding new ways to annoy you. Where's the fun otherwise?" Richie laughed and sat up. "Come here."

Eddie did as he was told and got close enough so that Richie and him were resting their foreheads against one another's. They met each other half way as they locked lips again, ignoring the loud knocks and rings echoing throughout the house. Eddie put his hands on either side of Richie's head as he kissed him, breaking apart to leave a couple light kisses on his lips before standing to leave.

"When should we tell the others?" Richie whispered.

"Whenever you want. I'll see if I can sneak in some phone calls when my mom isn't around, but no promises. I'll see you Monday," Eddie said with a smile on his face. He left Richie in his room and went downstairs to confront his mother.

* * *

Monday had finally arrived and Richie could not have been in a better mood. He had no nightmares over the weekend and he was now dating Eddie Kaspbrak, his best friend, so what was there to be sad about? He strode into school and found his friends near his locker whispering to each other.

"Hey, guys!" Richie exclaimed, and the others made room so that Eddie could be closest to Richie as the latter gave Eddie an affectionate smile. He wished he could kiss him, but their relationship couldn't be known to the other students or basically anybody while they were stuck in Derry.

Stan watched them stare at each other and smirked. "Hey, Rich. How are you doing?"

The smile never leaving his face, he turned towards the curly-haired boy. "Why, Stanley, I am fantastic today. It may be Monday, but I know my dearest friends will help me overcome such an obstacle!"

Ben laughed. "Okay, whatever you say, Richie."

"I do say so! You guys should be writing down word-for-word my sage knowledge!"

"I-if that's what you wanna call it, then s-sure," Bill grinned.

Eddie couldn't stop smiling as Richie engaged Bill in banter, with Stan rolling his eyes at a joke Eddie didn't hear with all of the thoughts running through his head.

As the bell rang, Richie hurriedly opened his locker and put away some books. "Well, off we go, lads! Eddie and I must tackle the anatomy of a cell!"

"I don't think that's what we're learning, Richie," Eddie said, dimples forming at how much he was grinning.

Richie put a finger to his lips. "They don't know that, Eds."

"We're still here, you know," Stan chimed in. "We haven't left yet."

Richie pretended to let out a shocked gasp before switching his demeanor to one more serious. He looked at Eddie and the others with admiration. "Thank you, guys. For everything you did or tried to do for me."

"It's our privilege," Bill replied wholeheartedly. "Losers take care of each other."

Eddie swore he saw tears start to form in Stan's eyes as the boy stepped forward and hugged Richie quickly. "It's good to have you back, man." He turned to Eddie and mouthed "Thank you" before heading to his first class.

"I should get going, too," Ben mentioned. "I'll see you guys later." He smiled softly at Eddie, Richie, and Bill before following Stan.

"So, I'll s-see you at lunch, right?" Bill inquired to Richie.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world, Bill," Richie answered.

Bill nodded, satisfied. He gave one last look at Richie and Eddie together, smiling at them before leaving them alone.

As the two started towards the Science department, they had to resist the urge to hold hands as there were still students who also waited until the last minute to get to their classes. Finishing the last few yards with brisk walks, the two entered the classroom as soon as the bell rang, signaling the beginning of the period.

After taking their usual seats, Eddie watched Richie take out his Biology notebook and begin to flip through it as the teacher gave attendance. Eddie could feel his heart begin to thump against his chest as Richie turned to the first page that wasn't riddled with silly drawings.

Adjusting his glasses, Richie read the note Eddie had left Friday night when they had their heart-to-heart.

 _Richie,_

 _Tonight tested our limits and how far we're willing to go for the other. You were drunk for some of it, but you took steps towards recovery and I couldn't be happier at how the night turned out. You're strong, stronger than you may think and you showed it tonight when you emptied that bottle into your bathroom sink. You can overcome anything. I'm going to be here for you whenever you need me and I know you'll do the same. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. There isn't anything I wouldn't do for you. No matter what happens, I will never forget you. Never. I hope one day we leave Derry together to take on the world, together forever._

 _-Eddie "Spaghetti"_

 _P.S. That was a nice kiss._

Richie had to remove his glasses and Eddie handed him a tissue so he could wipe his eyes. They looked at each other with love and Richie took his boyfriend's hand from underneath the table and squeezed it, rubbing his thumb over the short boy's knuckles as the teacher called Richie's name. Eddie's hand was given another squeeze and the two ended up holding hands for the entire class. Richie had never been happier than he was at that moment. He had found peace at last.


End file.
